


I missed you

by Finduilas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Comes Back, Digital Art, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, M/M, hints at insomnia and nightmares, season 3b, the "I missed you" scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek comes back to Beacon Hills, and Stiles has missed him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I missed you

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Tina! <3
> 
> Also posted [on Tumblr.](http://finduilasclln.tumblr.com/post/74304925258/finduilasclln-i-missed-you-too-stiles-i)

 

 

 

It feels strange, being back in the loft. It’s almost like he never left, except that there are different smells in the air now. Scott. Lydia. The twins. Stiles.

It feels strange, being there again without Cora. But they both agreed that this is what was best for them. Cora needs to finish school, sort herself out, and she needs to do it somewhere far away from Beacon Hills. Derek always thought that maybe he needed to be far away from Beacon Hills as well, but it seems like he can’t escape it. There’s something that will always draw him back in, it seems.

Derek airs the place out, cleans up a bit. He doesn’t stop until it smells… reborn. Even though maybe he would’ve liked to have kept certain scents. Scents that unconsciously make him feel better. Derek tries not to think about it too much as he settles down on the couch.

Scott and Isaac come by, and Derek isn’t entirely sure how they found out he’s back. For a split second, he fears Scott is there to lay down the law, to give him permission to stay - or not - seeing as he is now the Alpha. Not necessarily his Alpha, but still. But he should’ve known that wouldn’t be the case, and Scott is just there to welcome him back, and fill him in on what’s been going on since he left.

He talks about the darkness around their hearts, about how it affects the three of them in different ways, about how they’re struggling to keep the upper hand at times. And Derek can’t help but feel bad for not having been there, for not having been able to help out. When Scott and Isaac get ready to leave, Derek tells them that he’s there now and he’ll do whatever he can to help. Scott nods, and shakes his hand, and it makes Derek feel like equals somehow. Isaac… well, Isaac pulls him into a quick hug, letting go as fast as he leant in, but Derek can still feel it long after they’re gone.

Derek isn’t sure if any of this means they’re part of the same pack. He’s gotten so used to everyone always leaving, to always only having one person to be able to count on - himself. Derek is used to be alone, used to having to offer someone something for them to allow him to stay. Derek can offer help to Scott and his pack. He can offer muscle, and some wisdom. He can offer to help keep them alive, to stop them from losing their minds. It’s what they need, after all.

Stiles comes over the next day, and Derek isn’t entirely sure why he didn’t tag along with Scott and Isaac the day before. He doesn’t ask though, and simply lets Stiles enter. Stiles looks… tired and weary. He looks around the room like he’s never seen it before, shuffles his feet over the floor, looking around, and not actually saying anything to Derek. Derek just lets him, lets him take his bearings while he listens to Stiles’ heartbeat, trying to figure out how he’s doing. Scott told him that they were doing slightly better, that they were trying to close that door in their minds, and that maybe they weren’t all there yet but it wasn’t completely open anymore either.

Stiles looks tired, but he doesn’t look exhausted to the bone. His heartbeat is steady and healthy. He looks vulnerable but not completely defenseless. So Derek guesses Scott was right and they are on the uprise.

When Stiles finally speaks, he’s pushing his hands deep into his pants pockets and his expression is unreadable when he says, “So, I guess you’re back.”

The way he says it, Derek isn’t sure if it’s a relief or an accusation, so he’s not entirely sure what to reply. What with everything going on since Derek left, the effects of the Nemeton taking hold of Stiles… Derek isn’t entirely sure why Stiles is even here, wasting his time on Derek?

And then Stiles ducks his head, and says, “I missed you.”

The words are clear as day, and yet Derek has trouble hearing them, understanding them. Stiles looks like he regrets it the second he says them, and Derek’s head is still reeling.

Stiles looks at him again, a sad finality on his face as he says, “That’s okay. I didn’t think you’d believe me anyway.”

He turns away and it hits Derek like a brick. He matters. He matters to Stiles. And all this time that Derek was away, Stiles noticed it. Despite the fact that the Nemeton is probably one of the most difficult things Stiles has ever battled in his life and he was afraid of literally losing his mind.

Derek is so used to nobody ever really caring, and then… then Stiles comes along, whose life is a mess, who is preoccupied by self-sacrifices and his own sanity, and still… He finds time to miss Derek. To feel that absence. To know deep down that something isn’t right, something is missing, and it’s Derek.

And Derek just never ever could have hoped for that. He never allowed himself to even think it. It’s mind boggling when it actually happens, and Derek… he has no defenses left. He’s stripped bare by Stiles’ confessions and it’s almost too much to take. So he does all he can in that moment, puts his hand on Stiles’ shoulder to stop him from walking away. And when Stiles turns to face him, Derek collapses onto him, pulls him close into his arms, and just… holds him. He can feel Stiles sag into him, hands coming up on his back to grip his shirt, clinging onto Derek. Derek lets out a deep breath, and when he breathes back in, fills his lungs with Stiles’ scent.

He forces himself to speak, and whispers out a broken, “I missed you too, Stiles.”

The words drag a soft noise out of Stiles, a whimper of sorts, and it makes them both hold on a little tighter.

Derek isn’t sure how long they stand there, finding comfort in each other, and he isn’t sure which one of them finally lets go. Stiles shoots a soft smile at Derek when they eventually do break away, and his eyes are glistening with unshed tears. He kind of wants to tell Stiles that it’s okay, that he can let them spill if he wants to, but he figures that the admission of having missed each other has shaken Stiles enough already. Derek doesn’t want to push.

Stiles smiles though, when he finally leaves the loft, and Derek closes his eyes and tries to find his footing again. He notices that the air smells exactly right again.

***

Derek doesn’t see Stiles the next day, and he isn’t completely sure if he is meant to take the first step now. Or if there is even a first step to take.

It takes three days for Derek to get his act together and ring the doorbell at the Stilinski house. In the short amount of time it takes for the Sheriff to come to the front door to open it, Derek wonders about a million times why he didn’t just come in through Stiles’ bedroom window.

“Derek,” the Sheriff says, nodding as if he’s not entirely surprised to see him there.

“Sheriff Stilinski,” Derek says politely, giving him a curt nod.

“You must be here for Stiles’ wall,” the Sheriff says as he waves him in.

“Uhm…” Derek says, confused, but he steps in anyway.

The Sheriff calls out Stiles’ name loudly, tilting his head towards the staircase, and Stiles appears a few moments later, eyes wide as he sees Derek.

“More supernatural investigations,” the Sheriff says, all but rolling his eyes as he goes off into the living room, giving blank permission for Derek to go up to Stiles’ room when he waves him over.

He understands what the Sheriff meant when he takes a look at Stiles’ bedroom walls, plastered with pictures, theories, colored strings.

“You’ve been… busy,” Derek says, taking it all in.

“Insomnia gives you a lot of time,” Stiles shrugs, almost joking.

“Insomnia?” Derek asks, frowning at him.

“Nightmares,” Stiles explains, raising his shoulder. “Not all the time. It’s getting better now.”

“I…” Derek shakes his head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

It feels stupid, because how on earth would he be able to ward off nightmares anyway, but Derek still feels this need to say it.

“You had your hands full too,” Stiles says, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a smile, “Besides, you’re back now, right?” His face drops immediately, and he asks, “You are here to stay though… right?”

The ‘I missed you’ is clear in Derek’s ears again, and he rushes to reassure Stiles. “Yeah, I am. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stiles’ face cracks open in a smile again, relief flooding over it. “That’s good.”

Derek nods, answers the smile with one of his own. They look at each other for just a second too long, and then Derek clears his throat and turns towards one of the walls.

“So fill me in on all of this?” Derek says, and Stiles starts talking.

***

Derek comes over more and more often, because Stiles always seems content to see him. Sometimes, when Derek hasn’t gone to Stiles’ in a few days, Derek will find Stiles in his loft instead. There are times where they rarely even speak. Stiles will be busy on his laptop, or watching TV, and Derek will be reading a book, or fixing things up in his loft. The Sheriff is used to seeing Derek at the house, and apart from the occasional odd look, he never actually asks Derek to leave. Derek thinks that it might have something to do with the smile on Stiles’ face, and that that is his free pass with the Sheriff. He’s grateful for it.

“Do you ever just think like we could all be on an episode of Buffy or something?” Stiles says as he’s clicking away absentmindedly on his laptop.

“Wouldn’t know,” Derek shrugs, looking at the pictures on Stiles’ wall for what feels like the millionth time. “Never seen it.”

“What?” Stiles calls out, outraged, and Derek has to bite his tongue not to laugh. Stiles immediately starts tapping away at his laptop, and pats the free space next to him on the bed. “Get over here. We are watching this show right this second!”

“Stiles…” Derek protests, but he kicks off his shoes anyway and slides into the free spot next to Stiles.

“How can you be a werewolf and not have seen this show?” Stiles as he settles the laptop between their legs, to get the best angle.

“I thought they killed werewolves?” Derek asks, but he makes himself comfortable anyway.

“Vampires, Derek,” Stiles says, and the first episode starts playing.

“Vampires aren’t real…” Derek whispers at Stiles with a smirk.

“Really, dude?” Stiles quirks an eyebrow at him, and Derek grins as he turns his attention to the screen.

Stiles falls asleep somewhere halfway through the third episode, his head slumped down on Derek’s shoulder. Derek quietly shuts the lid on the laptop, rests his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head, and closes his eyes.

***

They haven’t hugged since that first time in the loft, when Stiles admitted that he had missed Derek. They haven’t actually acknowledged any of it since, and Derek is beginning to wonder whether he made too big a deal out of it. The admission that Derek was a part of Stiles’ life, so much even that he missed him when he wasn’t around… it meant more to Derek than what he allowed himself to admit. And they’ve been close ever since, spending a lot of time together, but nothing actually happened. And Derek realizes with a shock that he did expect something to happen.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He doesn’t fully notice that he’s doing it until Stiles calls him on it.

“Like what?” Derek asks, looking away from Stiles.

“Like something is wrong?” Stiles asks, and Derek can hear his heartbeat spike up, and he kind of hates himself for it.

“Nothing is wrong,” Derek says quickly, looking out through the big wall of windows in his living room.

“You’re a bad liar,” Stiles says quietly, but he comes up to stand behind Derek.

Derek is silent for a few moments, focusing on the rain drizzling down outside. On the slow in and out of Stiles’ breathing behind him.

“Would you still miss me if I wasn’t here?” Derek asks finally, and he regrets it immediately when he hears Stiles gasp sharply, along with a rise in his heartbeat.

“Are you leaving?” Stiles asks, strangled.

Derek turns to face him. The color has left Stiles’ face, and he looks… sickly.

“No,” Derek says immediately, trying to lock eyes with Stiles. “I’m not. I’m here to stay.”

“Then why…?” Stiles asks, confused, his jaw clenched.

“Because I would still miss you,” Derek says, honestly. “Because… because I don’t think you know what those words meant to me. Not really.”

“You think I didn’t mean them?” Stiles asks carefully, tilting his head a little as he regards Derek.

“No, I know you did,” Derek says, “But nobody ever misses me. Nobody ever… wonders about me when I’m not there.”

“That’s life’s greatest injustice right there,” Stiles says through a smile and wet eyes.

Derek huffs out a tiny laugh. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do,” Stiles says, determined.

Stiles is standing close to him. So very close.

“Sometimes I worry that you don’t know the impact of your words,” Derek says quietly, his eyes fixed on Stiles’.

“You worry too much,” Stiles answers, “Because I know exactly what I’m saying, and all the things you think are behind those words… they are. I’m just waiting for you to believe them.”

There are fingers brushing up to his, and somehow they’re standing a step closer to each other, the only thing between them the electricity crackling in the air. Derek closes his eyes, breathing in Stiles as he gently tilts his temple against Stiles’. Stiles presses in closer to him, his hands snaking around Derek’s middle, and then Derek’s arms are encompassing Stiles again, holding him close. Stiles exhales contently against Derek’s body, his face pressed in the crook of Derek’s neck. And Derek finds that he believes.

***

“I’m just saying,” Stiles says, arms flailing wide as he paces back and forth across his room. “For a dude who’s supposed to have all the answers, he never actually has a lot of them!”

“I know,” Derek says, quietly amused as he watches Stiles get worked up over this.

“Or he’s being all cryptic!” Stiles goes on, “I mean, dude, people are dying, I don’t have time for your stupid Yoda riddles, alright?!”

“Did you just call Yoda stupid?” Derek asks, narrowing his eyes at Stiles as he tries to hold in a smirk.

“No!” Stiles says immediately, pointing his finger at Derek. “Never! It’s the way he picks the worst moments to be all mysterious that’s stupid, okay?”

Derek ducks his head as he can’t hold in his grin anymore.

“Don’t mock me,” Stiles says, trying to sound serious but cracking into a smile halfway through.

“I know, okay?” Derek says, and he gets up off the bed to get closer to Stiles. “And I agree. It’s the most annoying thing.”

“Good,” Stiles says, smiling at him softly, clearly pleased that Derek agrees with him.

“You’d make a good emissary,” Derek says, not a hint of humor in his voice.

“What?” Stiles says, his face frozen in a surprised smile.

“A perfect one, actually,” Derek says, his fingers brushing an invisible strand of hair off of Stiles’ temple.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asks, his lips tugged upward as he looks into Derek’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Derek says, because he can just feel it, somewhere deep down inside of him. That connection.

“Is it a matter of believing?” Stiles asks, and he does nothing to brush off Derek’s fingers.

“Maybe,” Derek says, and Stiles’ hand finds it’s way to Derek’s side again.

“I missed you,” Stiles says, after looking into Derek’s eyes for a few moments.

“I’m right here,” Derek says, eyes flittering between Stiles’ eyes and the perfect bow of his lips.

“I know,” Stiles smiles. “But it’s worth repeating.”

Derek nods minutely, takes a second for himself, and then he says, “I believe you.”

There’s a smile forming on Stiles’ face, that Derek cuts off with his lips. They’re soft and warm on Stiles’. The kiss is chaste and unassuming, but it holds the premise of a deeper meaning. Stiles’ hands curl in the fabric of Derek’s shirt, holding on. Derek moves his lips against Stiles’, gently testing each other out, a soft pressure, a breath of fresh air. There’s a swipe of Stiles’ tongue, just teasing against Derek’s lips, until he catches it with his own. Derek sucks Stiles’ bottom lip between his for a second, and Stiles’ entire body falls into Derek, like he has no control over it anymore.

Derek presses his lips against Stiles’ once more, before Stiles brings up his arms to throw them around Derek’s neck, and captures him into an embrace. Derek takes a deep breath, his nose buried in Stiles shirt, and it fills him with something he never thought he’d have. Happiness.


End file.
